He smiled. “You look better, too. You were very pale before the summit.”
“I’m better than then, for sure.”
“You let me know if you need anything. Or want to take a break. We can always—”
“Oh!”
Van. A surprised little gasp. Then scrambling feet, sliding sand, rustling fabric. Kito turning. Running back.
My heartbeat in my ears.
“Van!” Terror.
We all rushed to the edge of the mountain. But Van was just…gone.
“He tripped on that rock. He tripped,” someone said. Or did they? Maybe I just felt guilty I hadn’t called it out loud enough. Had I called it out at all?
We all raced over to the edge. Van was splayed out motionless on an outcropping of boulders below, blood quickly pooling around his head.
“No,” I whispered. And more than once.
Someone else kept shouting his name. “Van! Van! Van!”
As if he were just lost. As if he simply needed to know which way to go.
Scotty, I think, maybe.
Or Brooks or Richard.
Or it could have been me.
There was shouting then and rushing among the guides as they tried to figure out how to get down to Van. Ropes, pulleys—it was a very organized effort, but none of it seemed to be working. Calls to emergency services. After a few minutes or twenty or maybe thirty, Kito and two other guides were tasked with continuing with the rest of us to camp. Bakari would stay behind. There was nothing we could do to help, they said. And holding us at that altitude, running out of daylight when we were all so taxed already, wasn’t safe.
“They’re right,” Richard said grimly. “We should keep moving. This isn’t good for any of us.”
We did as we were told. By the time we arrived at the firstcamp on the descent, the sun was a brilliant red-hued circle at the edge of the horizon, the clouds a dazzling pink, a golden blanket below. It gave the moment a splendid kind of horror.
So did the buzz of the camp. It was much busier than any of those we’d stayed in before. The waves of excited laughter from climbers who’d just successfully summitted echoed from every corner like a taunt.
Have some respect! Someone is dead,I wanted to scream. I might have, too, if I could have managed to say a word.
I was haunted by that “Oh!” from Van. Surprise, but in a simple, ordinary way. LikeOh, there are my keysorOh, I’ve lost my balance.NotOh, I’m about to die.I wondered if Van had thought in those brief moments as he fell that they were probably his last.
At what point during a fatal fall did a person realize just how much trouble they were in?
We were ushered into the dining tent. Or we must have been. Because the next thing I knew we were dropping down into chairs around our usual table. But with one person fewer than there had been. No one moved, not to unzip layers or even to take off their gloves. No one rushed in with food, either. We just sat there, motionless and stunned. Kito ducked out, saying: “We will give you a minute. Drink water. Call if you need anything.”
“Did anyone see what happened?” Brooks asked once Kito was gone. “Van was behind me.”
“I didn’t,” Richard answered.
“He was behind me, too,” Scotty said, pointing out the obvious. Everyone had been behind Scotty. All of us seemed to be having a hard time processing anything.
“Maybe he’s…” Richard couldn’t even get the whole thought out. “Maybe he’ll make it. People survive all sorts of things. And Van is…tough.”
I swallowed hard. This was awful, every part of it. And I felt like an intruder. I wanted to disappear, but it felt rude to remove myself.
Brooks shook his head. “It was at least a hundred feet. And theblood around his head. They have to get him all the way to the helipad and then…”
